


Bells

by saltstreets



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Propositions, Rare Pair Week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 23:42:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21466462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltstreets/pseuds/saltstreets
Summary: “What you propose-”“Is very practical,” Tozer interrupted, leaning in to rest a hand against the hull, just beside Little’s shoulder.For Weddingsday, 'an indecent proposal'!
Relationships: Lt Edward Little/Sgt Solomon Tozer
Comments: 20
Kudos: 84
Collections: The Terror Rarepair Week 2019





	Bells

**Author's Note:**

> [throws my hands up in the air] I dunno, this one was difficult to write! I'm still not 100% happy with it. But I love this ship truly, madly, deeply etc and everything I’ve written for them has been either highly tragic or unforgivably horny, so at last I’ve tried to produce something a bit more light-hearted. Okay, and it’s still pretty horny, but that’s just a given.
> 
> It _was_ fun as a contrast to the Thursday fic (posted before this one, the Wednesday fic, on the Friday…I’ve been a mess this week), which is pretty much also a Little/Tozer getting-together fic but in wildly different circumstances. Pre- and post-Carnivale Tozer has such a different outlook on life and how better to showcase that than by having him put the moves in two very different ways on Lt Edward Little? I rest my case, this is canon analysis.
> 
> Alternate summary: Edward Little’s mortifying ordeal of being known versus Solomon ‘a situation is a situation amirite fellas’ Tozer’s homosocial life hacks

Tozer clambered out of the hatch and took an easy preliminary lope around the deck. Once he’d satisfied himself that all was quiet and in order, he located Lt Little near the aft hatch and made his way over. “Lieutenant.”

“Sergeant,” Little greeted. He had a scarf wrapped securely up to his chin, and his hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his heavy woollen overcoat. 

“Cold tonight.”

“Cold every night,” said Little, deadpan but with a small smile. “I expect better of your reports, Tozer. The quality of journalism has sunken.”

Tozer laughed. “I’ll do my best to find more interesting material, sir.” He nudged Little’s shoulder, and Little nudged back, and they began to walk the deck. It was the middle watch and a particularly brutal night besides with the mercury hovering tauntingly at fifty-six degrees below, and normally Tozer would have said it was far too cold for conversation, far too cold to do much of anything but just burrow his face down deep into as much wool as could be acquired and wait for the ship’s bell to let him know that he could scurry back below. But he enjoyed talking to Little, and it had become a routine of sorts for them to spend the time on watch together. Tozer didn’t remember how it had began, only that it had, and that it had been going on for some time now.

Alright, that was a lie. He could remember precisely how it had began. The doubled watches after Sir John’s death had meant that he and Little were sharing duty on deck, which they hadn’t been before. They had rubbed shoulders of course, and had interacted in matters of command. But the watches, particularly those in the nighttime with nothing to pass the icy and mostly dull hours but conversation and making long rounds of the deck hoping the movement would bring keep something like warmth flowing, had given ample opportunity to get to know each other.

Little was, Tozer had found, a decent sort. He took the wellbeing of his men to heart, and while he was too uptight to have of yet said it in so many words, Tozer knew he was dissatisfied with Crozier and the way the captain was seemingly throwing everything out the window in favour of drinking himself to death. Little had opinions, once they could be teased out of him, and Tozer did like teasing.

And it had been as they stood together at the rail two nights prior, talking quietly in the thick, cold darkness, that Tozer had become aware of the fact that he’d dropped his voice down half a register and had been leaning steadily towards Little, had been smiling more often than not and in other words, had been flirting.

Whether or not Little was aware of that fact remained to be seen. Tozer examined it within himself. He was no stranger to the sort of arrangements men could come to onboard a ship: it was unhealthy to ignore a natural need, he thought, and so simply never had. And tonight, with the temperature low even for the Arctic, the need was making itself keenly known.

By the time the bell sounded out the blessed and long-awaited eight tolls, Tozer had made up his mind as to what he wanted from Little. But he wasn’t a complete idiot, and Little wasn’t some soused sailor, undiscerning even under the best of circumstances. Little was a lieutenant, of higher rank than Tozer and requiring careful handling.

“Cup of tea?” Tozer said, teeth chattering slightly as they descended the ladder, gratefully pulling the hatch closed behind them. Little only nodded, and they went together towards the galley to commandeer a kettle and some tin cups.

Which lead to them in the port walk coming away from the kitchen, and then to a relatively sheltered corner in the shadow of one of _Terror_’s knees, and finally to Tozer having offered, without much obfuscating as it wasn’t his style, a rather different method of warming up after watch.

Little’s back was ramrod straight, his eyes wide. Tozer examined the sight, pleased, taking in the details as an artist regarding his work. The curl of hair fallen across Little’s brow, the dimple of his chin, the high flush on his cheeks. It was dark in the walk, only a flickering light cast from the bracket a little ways down, but Tozer could see enough. And he liked what he saw.

“I can’t say I know what you’re implying,” said Little in what might have been intended to be a cool manner, but he missed the mark by a fair margin. If Tozer wasn’t inclined to be generous he might have said that Little’s voice had become _shrill._

“I think you do, sir,” said Tozer. “It’s cold outside and it’s cold down here and there are other ways of getting warm than just sharing a cup of tea.” He took a step forward, undeniably in Little’s space now. “Don’t worry yourself about it, lieutenant,” he said, invitingly. When all was said and done, he was rather enjoying the convincing as much as he was sure he would enjoy what might come after. Little had a gloriously open face, all his emotions spread across it for the world to see, and currently he was blushing as pink as a salmon and kept worrying at his lip in a way that was very distracting. Tozer was good at reading people: it was important in his job and even more important in getting away with asking men the sort of things he asked them without winding up with a black eye or worse for his troubles. Little was embarrassed to be sure but crucially, there was no anger in that lovely flush. “I’ll take care of everything for you. We just go back to your cabin, discreet-like, and I’d have you warmed right up. Show myself out when you want me gone and all’s well.”

“What you propose-”

“Is very practical,” Tozer interrupted, leaning in to rest a hand against the hull, just beside Little’s shoulder.

“Is _indecent_,” Little hissed, but his gaze keep flicking down to Tozer’s mouth.

“Indecent? Saving yourself for marriage, are you?” Tozer teased, feeling bold. If Little had really been going to rake him over the coals he would have done it already. “Would you say yes if I made an honest man of you first?”

Little went even redder and spluttered. “What!”

“A spring wedding won’t be so fine when everything’s still covered in snow and ice, but it’s the idea of the thing that counts, isn’t it?” His mind idly produced the image: Little in full dress uniform, gold braid and epaulets, standing under some ludicrous flowery bower in the middle of the Arctic ice shelf. It made for a ridiculous picture, while at the same time being vaguely pleasing. Tozer would wear his own red coat of course, a nice contrast against the flat white and greys that surrounded them. “Well, lieutenant? If I get down on one knee…?”

Little made- not a sound, he was more controlled than that- but close to a sound. An inhale or perhaps an exhale, just a bit more emphatic than usual. Tozer heard it and he could see that Little _knew_ he had been heard, because the embarrassed flush up his neck went blotchier and he looked away quickly.

With his coat buttoned snugly, Tozer couldn’t see the front of Little’s trousers but he didn’t need to. The man’s eyes had bloomed dark and heated. That was promising.

Tozer felt impulsive, and he did the first he could think of, which happened to also be the last thing he had said. He actually bent his knee and lowered himself to the deck.

Little watched him wide-eyed and Tozer smiled, open and friendly. _Come on, Little,_ he thought, _it’s a joke, but one I’m offering you to get in on. Or get in something, at least. _He reached forward and took Little’s hand where it was clenched at his side. 

Little bit his lip hard when Tozer wrapped his fingers about his. “Sergeant…”

“Lieutenant Little,” said Tozer with good cheer, “will you do me the honour of taking my hand?” He was incredibly tempted to add, _and then taking my prick,_ and if Little had been anyone else he might have, but the poor man seemed to be dealing with enough at the moment.

“I won’t be mocked,” said Little, snappish and hoarse.

“I’m not mocking you.” Was this worth his time? Tozer could have had the trousers down on a wide cast of characters from the lower decks by now, or there were always certain few of the of the marines who could be counted on being game. But it wasn’t just an itch he wanted scratched, he wanted _Little. _Sure, the man could be rather morose but he had a pleasant smile when in a good mood and Tozer had never seen him be anything but fair and reasonable with the men, which was as glowing a recommendation as any in his book. “I wouldn’t risk a flogging just to play a practical joke on you, sir.” His knee was beginning to complain against the hard cold planks but Tozer ignored it. “I’m being quite serious. Well,” he amended, “not entirely. The marriage bit was for a laugh. But my initial offer does stand. You call the shot here.”

There was a loaded pause. “It-” Little hesitated. “It is quite cold.”

“It is.”

Little licked his lips nervously. “And you believe that-”

“You need to stop overthinking it, lieutenant,” Tozer interrupted. He’d interrupted Little a few times now. A good thing that as he was currently inviting the man to a buggering, they were probably safely outside the realms of the naval hierarchy in which he could get reprimanded for that. “It’s just a yes or no question.”

“It’s really not,” said Little, and for the first time since Tozer had started this he sounded almost like the man with whom Tozer had occasionally joked while on watch. “In fact you may be _under_thinking this.”

“Not on your life.” Tozer brought Little’s hand in and smacked a kiss on his chapped knuckles.

Little made an odd sort of choking sound. Tozer decided to be optimistic and assumed that it was a good thing. He actually was rather delighted by how embarrassed Little was. It had been a while since he’d had any sort of run-up to a tumble that was more than a considering glance at his trousers and a shrug. And Little was looking at him now, that glorious bloom of colour still on his cheeks but he was meeting Tozer’s gaze. Tozer slowly turned Little’s hand over and pressed another kiss, this one to his palm and slower. He felt rather like he was wooing. But lieutenants had to be wooed, he supposed. They were a different species altogether.

He stood (his knee making a rather unfortunate creak and Tozer hoped Little hadn’t heard) and pressed his hand against Little’s chest, which had the dual benefits of allowing him to push the lieutenant back flat against the hull and helping to warm up the hand in question. He was wearing his gloves and they’d been below for long enough now that the feeling had returned to his fingers, but even a slight chill would make what he wanted to do next decidedly uncomfortable. Tozer had worked hard enough to get to this point already, it would only be idiocy to ruin it all by having cold hands.

He wrapped his hand around the back of Little’s neck, and leaned in. He received no protest, and, satisfied that Little had to be either aware of Tozer’s intentions or completely dense, Tozer closed the remaining space between them to kiss the lieutenant.

There was a wavery second before Little reciprocated, and then _reciprocated,_ opening his mouth beneath Tozer’s and turning his head to introduce a better angle. Satisfied that he wasn’t going to be shoved away after all Tozer dropped his hands to undo the brass buttons on Little’s uniform jacket. They slipped neatly from their buttonholes, permitting him to slip his hands inside and rest them on Little’s waist. Little squirmed in his grasp and the kiss grew messier.

“You still thinking about marriage?” Tozer said, mouthing his way from Little’s lips to the side of his neck, just by the soft place behind his ear.

“I wasn’t the one who brought it up- oh, _God_.” Tozer had scraped his teeth against the delicate skin and Little arched beneath his hands. They had removed overcoats and the outermost collection of scarves, hats, and mittens while in the kitchen, but Tozer could have used a half-dozen fewer layers between them. He could still feel the hard length of Little’s arousal against his thigh when he adjusted himself between the man’s legs, but he wanted to _touch,_ and that was no easy task as bundled as they still were.

“Don’t get too excited, lieutenant,” he advised, a shameless hypocrisy as he was half-hard in his trousers himself, and that just from being able to touch Little and hear the sounds he made. “We don’t have half the time anymore we’d need for much of anything.” That too might have been equally false, as the way things were going didn’t bode well for how long Tozer might last if he ever actually got to see and touch more of Little than just his hands and neck. “Not that I don’t wish it were otherwise,” he added, sliding a hand down to brush over the tell tale swell of Little’s trouser fronts.

“Tozer.”

Tozer gave an impulsive squeeze. Little inhaled sharply. “_Tozer_-”

“Shh,” Tozer mumbled against the scrap of Little’s collarbone that he could access, leaving little red half-moons of marks littered across the skin. At this hour the denizens of _Terror_ should all still be in their hammocks and bunks, or shivering out on watch, but it never hurt to be careful.

Little scrabbled at the wooden planks of the hull behind him as though searching for purchase before hesitantly raising his hands to settle them first on Tozer’s shoulders, then to wrap his arms about his neck. Tozer surged forward, eager, abandoning his attentions at Little’s neck in favour of returning to his mouth. He liked kissing. There was an intimacy of communication to it, lips moving and words flowing directly into another mouth, avoiding the cold air that froze and warped them.

“I wouldn’t mind carrying you across the threshold,” Tozer said, letting the sentence skim warm and damp across Little’s lips. It wasn’t the sort of fantasy he usually indulged in, a bit too quaint for his tastes, too much for a different sort of man than the one he considered himself to be. But Little had seemed to like it, and that was good enough for Tozer.

“Do you think I could? I think I could. You in your uniform, you’d look a picture in my arms.”

Little was wonderfully reactive. Tozer could see the arousal all over the man’s face, and knowing that he’d put it there was making him feel warm and satisfied. Christ but he wanted Little in a proper bed. That blush probably went all the way down. He truly did wish they had the minutes for more than a clumsy fumble. He wanted to spread Little out, at least as best he could on a narrow bunk, and take his time.

But as if in agreement with his thoughts, just then two chimes rang out over their heads, distant through the bones of the ship but still discernible and unmistakable- two bells on the morning watch. The ship would start coming back to life soon enough.

Little pulled back reluctantly, though his hands were still on Tozer’s shoulders.

Tozer glanced upwards to where the sound had come from, and grinned, feeling inordinately pleased with himself. “Wedding bells, lieutenant. You’ll be an honest man after all.”

Little gaped at him. “Tozer.”

“Yes?”

“That was appalling.”

“I hope you don’t mean the-”

“The joke, Tozer.” Little coughed, discreetly. “The joke. The rest was, er. Satisfactory.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

They were stood face-to-face in the narrow walk. Little straightened his collar and redone his buttons, and was more or less respectable again. Tozer figured he himself most likely looked alright. Little hadn’t gotten his hands in his hair, which would have been another story entirely.

“I’m not entirely sure how to ask,” Little admitted, “but is this- what you were after? Or would you be- I mean that is to say- I would be, erm, not opposed. To meeting again.”

_Not opposed_ was putting it lightly. Tozer’s prick was still at half-mast in his trousers. Nothing that a quick jaunt back to his bunk and a few perfunctory minutes spent with the _very_ memorable image of Little’s red-kissed mouth wouldn’t take care of in a gratifying way, but it would be far nicer to have the promise of Little himself in future to help the process along. And Tozer still didn’t believe in denying a need. “I’d like to, yeah. Very much so. If you’re agreeable, sir.”

“I’m agreeable,” said Little hastily.

And Tozer thought, yes, he found Edward Little very agreeable indeed.

There was a dull _thud_ from a little ways off, the unmistakeable sound of feet hitting the ground from a hammock.

Tozer gestured to the narrow walk and couldn’t resist. Little was lenient with him already. “Shall we walk down the aisle, lieutenant?”

“_No,_” said Little emphatically, but his cheeks were flushed red again, and he let their shoulders rub together as they headed back to their respective duties.


End file.
